


doodles (geetrick)

by cicis_gay_pizzas



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, geetrick, gerard is a total fangirl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-10-28 03:24:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10822731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cicis_gay_pizzas/pseuds/cicis_gay_pizzas
Summary: Soulmate AU where whatever you write on your skin shows up on your soulmate’s skin.Or, in which Gerard is bored and doesn’t have paper, and Patrick is in a rock band.





	1. "You’re not paid to just sit around and doodle."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard really likes to doodle when he's bored.

Gerard Way loved art. He’d always find some excuse to doodle on the edges of his paper during school. But he wasn’t in school anymore, he was an adult, and he had a job where he sat at a desk all day and couldn’t deal with his boredom. He’d often times draw little designs on sticky notes or in a small notepad he brought with him, but he always ran the risk of getting caught.

He lived in Belleville, New Jersey, and there wasn’t much he could do for entertainment on his days off except run to the closest art supply store whenever he ran out of paints or markers or colored pencils. He could clean up his apartment, but he knew it would just get cluttered with paint easels again. He could try to repaint the walls, but he knew they’d just get covered in all kinds of evidence of his artwork. The walls of Gerard’s room and study acted more as notebooks than anything else; whenever he had an idea for an art project he’d take the nearest writing utensil and jot it down on the walls.

But it was Monday. Gerard worked on Mondays. He didn’t want to wake up and have to go to work only to be bored out of his damn mind during whatever meeting was being held in his department. He may work in the graphic design department, but that doesn’t mean much when you’re one of the heads of the department. He just sat and checked his emails all day, occasionally looking at someone’s work and critiquing it before sending it off to the other people in the department that were more important than he was. 

But, if he didn’t get up soon, Gerard wouldn’t have enough time to go to Starbucks before work. So he forced himself to get out of bed, and go get ready for his day.

 

Gerard made it to work on time, and he definitely got his Starbucks. He sat down at his desk right as the clock hit nine-thirty, and quickly pulled up his email. He scrolled through a couple emails, lazily sipping his coffee as he stared blankly at the screen. He didn’t even notice how quickly he got bored while staring at the screen. Not even ten minutes passed before he took a sticky note and scribbled little designs onto it.

One of his coworkers passed by at about ten o’clock and told him to put away the sticky notes and read over this week’s agenda. He internally sighed, and put his pen down on the sticky note he was doodling on so he could click on the email with the agenda on it and read it… again. It was the first thing he opened and looked at when he first started looking through his emails.

He looked at a couple other emails, then grabbed the pen and continued to draw on the sticky note. It wasn’t even an hour into his shift yet, and he had nothing to do. Everyone in the department knew that he wouldn’t be there at all this weekend, since one of his favorite bands was coming to town and he had front row tickets. Everyone knew that if they had something that Gerard would need to look at, he needed it by Friday at three o’clock. The concert was on Friday night, and he normally had the weekends off work, so he was able to convince his boss to let him leave early on Friday so he could get home and get ready for the concert.

But it was only Monday, and he could see one of the other heads of the graphic design department walking in his direction already. He let out a small sigh and directed his attention to his computer monitor again, hoping that it would look like he was actually working instead of doodling on a sticky note since he got there.

“Gerard,” The person said. He looked up, seeing one of the people that was more important than him, a young woman named Jaimiee. “I’ve heard some buzz that you’re just sitting around.”

“That would be correct, cause I’ve been working here for a couple years now, and I’ve sat around every day.” He said, sarcasm filling his words.

“You know what I meant. You’re not doing anything.”

“Well, I actually am doing something. I’m looking at emails and doodling on a sticky note. Is it a bad thing for the artist to do art-related things?” His words seemed venomous.

Jaimiee reached over to the sticky note Gerard was drawing on and grabbed it as well as any other sticky notes on his desk. “You’re not paid to just sit around and doodle.” She walked off, her heels clicking on the marble floor.

Once he was sure she was gone, Gerard just rolled his eyes. Thankfully, Jaimiee didn’t take his pens. He rolled up one of his sleeves up to his elbow, and started doodling on his arm. It’s not like she could take his skin or his black pens.

Gerard quietly doodled on his arm all morning and afternoon after his lunch, quickly rolling back down his sleeve whenever someone walked by. By the end of the day, his arm was filled with so many different designs that he took out his phone and snapped a picture of it before he had to leave work to go home for the night.

  
Meanwhile, somewhere on a tour bus between Chicago and Belleville, Patrick Stump examined his arm with curiosity. Intricate patterns and designs filled his arm from his elbow to his wrist, all in black pen.


	2. "Yeah, because lying is so much easier than telling the truth."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wowie this is the first fic i've posted on this website and everytime i get an email saying someone left kudos i scream a little so thanks !!!

Patrick Stump didn’t write on himself much, and when he did, it was often a note to himself that he wouldn’t remember anyway. Sometimes he would scribble out some lyrics, and sometimes little patterns would appear around the words. But Patrick didn’t make the little patterns, whoever his soulmate was did.

At one point, he asked his best friend and fellow bandmate Pete if he should try to have a conversation with whoever his soulmate is over writing on himself. Pete said that it wouldn’t hurt to try, so on Tuesday morning, he went to write one of his favorite lyrics on his arm.

But, when he rolled up his sleeve to write, there was already a sloppily written note on his arm. It said ‘ _Friday - 7PM!_ ’ and it looked to be hastily written. Patrick wondered just what his soulmate might be doing on Friday at seven. Then, it hit him. His band had a concert on Friday at seven. Could his soulmate be going to the show?

He wrote out a lyric. ‘ _I don’t know where you’re going but do you got room for one more troubled soul?_ ’. Moments after writing, he saw designs spring up around the words. Whoever his soulmate was must’ve been looking at their arm. ‘ _Do you like what I’m writing or are you just bored?_ ’ Patrick wrote.

The reply appeared on his arm quickly after. ‘ _Yes. Definitely bored. Aren’t those lyrics to a Fall Out Boy song?_ ’

Patrick actually felt himself blush as he read the note. ‘ _Yeah, it’s Alone Together. Why?_ ’

‘ _I’m going to see them on Friday._ ’

He knew it. But he couldn’t mention that he was the lead singer of Fall Out Boy. That’d make whoever his soulmate is completely freak out, wouldn’t it? Patrick had to think before writing out his next note. ‘ _Cool, me too! I don’t remember where my seat is though._ ’ That sounded convincing to him.

‘ _I’ve got the first row near the middle of the stage. Best seat in the whole place if you ask me._ ’

Patrick was going to be standing right in front of his soulmate for two and a half hours. All sweaty and gross and he won’t even know who his soulmate is unless they write something on their arm and he sees their arm. Now he was freaking out. ‘ _That is pretty cool._ ’ Patrick’s hand was shaking so much he couldn’t even think of what else to write and if it would even be readable.

‘ _Gotta go, it’s something for work. See you at the concert?_ ’

Patrick hesitantly wrote out a ‘ _Yeah_ ’ then threw his pen across his bunk. He rushed out of the bunks to where Pete sat on a couch in the small common area of the tour bus. “Pete, I need help.” He sat next to the other man, and held out his arm so he could see it. “They’re going to be right in front of me and I’m _freaking out_!”

“Okay, okay, calm down.” Pete gently took Patrick’s arm and looked at the conversation in ink. “You can just write whoever this is another note and say who you are.”

“Yeah, because ‘Hi, I kinda lied earlier, I’m actually Patrick Stump from Fall Out Boy and you’re going to be right in front of me for two and a half hours’ is better than just saying I’ll be at the concert.” Patrick rolled his eyes and took his arm back, then crossed both of them over his chest.

“Dude, it’s Tuesday, and it’s not even halfway through the day. We’ve still got a show tonight and a show tomorrow night to worry about.”

“But what if they put two and two together? Me writing our own lyrics on my arm and claiming I'll be at the concert? Doesn't that sound kinda suspicious to you?”

“Look, from their point of view you're a complete stranger that really fuckin’ likes Fall Out Boy. Stop stressing yourself out.” Pete slid his phone out of his pocket to check the time. “We'll be at the venue for tonight soon, so why don't you wash off your arm and get some rest?”

Sleep definitely sounded like a good idea to Patrick. “Yeah. I think I will. Thanks, Pete. I mean it.”

Pete have him a soft smile. “Of course. If it doesn't all wash off, I've always got some makeup to cover it up.”

“You're the best.” Patrick walked back to the bunks, the idea of sleep making himself extremely tired. He climbed into his bunk and pulled the curtain shut, then closed his eyes and let his drowsiness take him away.

 

When Gerard Way got home from work on Tuesday night, he looked at his arm and didn’t even think of the possibility that his soulmate was actually someone in the band itself. He just scrubbed the ink off of his arm and let the quiet lull him to sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is still a work in progress so i have no idea how long it will actually end up being. i'm writing it so each chapter will be roughly 2.5 pages and i'll try to update it once a week!!


	3. "Just call me your ticket to fame."

On Wednesday morning, Gerard didn't wake up at six-thirty in the morning. He didn't even set his alarm the previous night. Instead, he rolled out of his bed around noon, threw on some clothes, and walked from his home to the closest Starbucks. He had Wednesdays off work, and his friend Frank Iero’s shift at Starbucks ended at one in the afternoon, so he always went to get coffee and hang out with Frank before heading out to pick up Gerard’s brother Mikey and another friend, Ray Toro.

Gerard, Frank, Ray, and Mikey were in a band with each other. Their music wasn't that big, mainly because it was so different than everything else in the alt-rock scene. Not to mention that they made the same kind of music that Fall Out Boy did, and Gerard always thought his little band from Belleville would always stay in Fall Out Boy’s shadow.

Once the whole band was at Frank's house, everyone ran upstairs to grab the various guitars and amps and microphones they’d need. They took everything back out to his car: the guitars laid across Ray and Mikey’s laps in the backseat, the amps sat in a little pile in the trunk, and Gerard nervously held the microphone in his hands as Frank drove everyone and all the gear back to Gerard's house.

Everyone had the guitars ready by two-thirty in the afternoon, and were all sitting in a circle on stools. For the next four hours, they played their songs and talked and laughed and had a couple beers.

 

At six-forty, Gerard and the others had once again piled themselves and all their instruments back into Frank’s car. They had a gig that night at a local club, and, according to Frank, most everyone that went to this club liked the punk-ish rock vibe that their band put out.They got to the club at six-fifty, and had everything set up the way they liked it right at seven o’clock. The four waited until the lights dimmed to walk back onto the little stage and get their instruments. Gerard gave a small nod to Ray, and smiled to himself as the first sounds of the guitar filled the room.

 

At around eight, Gerard waved goodbye to the other three as they walked out of the club with all their gear. He decided to stay and have a couple drinks while Frank ran Ray and Mikey back to their places. He wove his way through the crowd; past dancing, sweaty bodies, past people so hammered they can barely stand up, and past various servers somehow avoiding groping hands and people getting in their way. He got to the bar and sat down on an empty stool, folding his hands together on the counter.

“You were in the band that just played, right?” a voice said from somewhere to Gerard’s left. He turned and looked in the direction of the voice, revealing a man who didn’t look that much younger than he was. “You guys were great.”

“Thanks, man!” Gerard said, taking a moment to take in the mystery man’s features. He had short, messy black hair, and to Gerard, he didn’t look that much different from the other people around the club.

“Ever played anything bigger than a club like this?”

“Not really. We’ve done a couple gigs around different bars and clubs that will let us play and we’ve done a few shows from Frank’s basement.” He wondered where the mystery man was taking this conversation.

“Y’know how Fall Out Boy’s playing in town this Friday?” Gerard nodded. Of course he knew about that concert, he was going to it for fuck’s sake. “They’re coming in around midday tomorrow. I bet if you stopped by the venue with your band, you might be able to convince the guys to let you open for them. They’re getting local bands to open, after all.”

Gerard’s eyes lit up. He could meet his idols,  _ and _ have the chance to play on the same stage as them? He was in. “That sounds fucking amazing! But I have work tomorrow…”

“Where d’you work? I can probably call in for you and get you out of there.” Mystery man smiled.

“That sounds awesome.” He paused for a moment before speaking again. “Wait, who are you, anyways?”

“Just call me your ticket to fame.”

 

Gerard didn’t even have any drinks by the time Frank came back to the bar to pick him up again. He just got into the front seat with him, with probably the biggest grin ever on his face.

“Why the fuck are you all smiley and so un-drunk?” Frank finally asked as he pulled up to Gerard’s apartment building.

“Get everyone and the gear to my office building at noon tomorrow. We have a chance to go big.” Gerard unbuckled his seatbelt and practically skipped over to the door to the building. “See ya tomorrow, Frankie!”


	4. “Actually,  it’s My Chemical Romance.”

Gerard was almost late to work the next morning.

He woke up like he normally did and took his damn time in the shower, washing his hair and his face and his whole body, too, then dashed out the door as soon as he was dressed and he looked presentable. He made his usual stop at Starbucks then practically ran to the building, not realizing how close he actually was to being late until he sat down at his desk and looked at the time.

The first thing he did was look at the week’s agenda again, which had been updated since Monday. The mystery man from the day before didn’t lie when he said he could get Gerard out of there, because sure enough, an edit to the Thursday schedule had been made, and it said that Gerard was leaving at noon. He mentally cheered.

For the next couple hours, he scrolled through emails, critiqued some people’s work, and made many more sticky note doodles. At one point, he scribbled ‘ _Noon!_ ’ on his arm, near the bend of his elbow, since he knew no one would see it there. He smiled as he took note of the time, the little clock on his computer monitor now reading 12:00. He stood up from his desk, said his goodbyes to his coworkers, and walked out of the building. Frank was waiting outside in his with the rest of the band and their instruments, just like Gerard had asked. He ran over to the car and hopped in, the sound of a Fall Out Boy record filling his ears as they hit the road.

They arrived at the venue at around 12:30, and Gerard saw mystery man waiting for them all outside. He helped them get all their gear inside and helped them set it up, then disappeared backstage once Gerard and the others were all set. Gerard started pacing around nervously, his mind going a hundred miles per minute. He'd probably freak out as soon as he laid eyes on one of Fall Out Boy’s band members, and he didn't want to think about what would happen if and when they started talking to him.

A couple minutes later, mystery man came back, with Patrick Stump and Pete Wentz in tow. “So, this is that band I was talking about.” He said, gesturing from the two to Gerard, Frank, Ray, and Mikey. “My something Romance? Sorry man, I can't remember.”

“It’s My Watercooler Romance!” Frank exclaimed, the laughed, which earned a reaction out of Pete. Gerard never wanted to punch Frank more than he did in that moment.

“Actually,  it’s My Chemical Romance.” Gerard said, lightly elbowing Frank in the ribs. “This guy’s been making that joke for months, sorry.”

“Hey, I thought it was pretty funny!” Pete said, pushing mystery man away and taking a step closer to the band.

“Yeah, I guess it was.” Patrick also took a step forward, his glance shifting from Gerard to Frank and he rest of the band, then back to Gerard.

“I try to be funny! Anyways, I’m Frank, the one with the fro is Ray, the quiet one over there is Mikey, and the one who’s trying not to scream is Gerard.” Frank pointed to each person as he said their name.

“Careful, Frank, don't make him mad.” Mikey said a bit quietly.

“Yeah, too late.” Gerard sighed. “So, we heard you're looking for an opener for tomorrow night’s show?”

“Yeah, we are, actually. Oh, that’s Pete and I’m Patrick, but you probably already knew that, um…” Patrick mumbled the last part quietly. Gerard honestly thought it was adorable. “So, just play us some stuff, I guess? We’ll be in the front row.” He watched as Pete easily hopped off the stage and into the first row of seats. He quickly followed suit, trying to keep hip himself from getting embarrassed when he almost tripped and fell after hopping onto the ground.

Gerard turned to his band. “Same as last night?” Everyone nodded, and Gerard took a deep breath as he turned to face his audience. He tapped his foot once, twice, three times, then the low hum of the guitar filled the once quiet arena.

The shakiness in Gerard's voice went away after the second song was over. After the fourth song, Pete whispered something to Patrick, he whispered something back, and the two of them smiled. Pete stood up before they could start another song, giving a signal to Gerard, who then gave another signal to his band. They all stood in silence for about thirty seconds.

“You guys need to be here at four tomorrow for sound check and shit. Feel free to walk around and get familiar with this place, since you'll be in it for at least six hours.” Pete smiled. “Welcome to the tour.”

 

Patrick smiled and stood up, walked up the little stairs back onto the stage, then disappeared backstage. He made sure he was in his dressing room and alone before rolling up his sleeve up past his elbow. The word ‘ _Noon!_ ’ was scribbled right at the bend of his elbow.

He saw that same word in the same place on Gerard’s arm, since at some point, Gerard rolled his sleeves up.

Then the realization hit him.

Patrick Stump’s soulmate was Gerard Way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes sorry this one was a bit late !! i'm trying to update on mondays but sometimes that's a bit hard.


	5. note from the author

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tl;dr  
> sorry i suck at keeping an update schedule

i apologize if you're really loving this fic and screaming internally at me for not updating. from a reader's standpoint, i totally get the feeling like "hey, this hasn't been updated in a while, but it's still ongoing. where's the updates?" because this is me with a lot of fics i read. personally, i have to be motivated/inspired to write or create any piece of art, so i blame lack of self-motivation for why i haven't updated this in literally a month. a lot of times it'll be close to midnight and i'll tell myself that i'm going to write but i'm going to read through the whole fic first before i continue on. and then i'll fall asleep and completely forget where i was going with the writing the next morning. i even told myself when school let out for me (near the beginning of june) that i would write more of this fic but oops, i didn't. the last edit even saved on the google doc i'm writing the fic on was when i changed the font roughly two weeks ago.

yes, i'm ranting about myself, but consider it an excuse for why this hasn't been touched in a month. 

tl;dr - sorry about my lack of updates, i'm working on it and will try to put out more updates !!


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